


Anton's Funeral

by ProgramasaurusRex



Category: Silicon Valley (TV)
Genre: Gen, antontheserver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-05 15:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11581152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProgramasaurusRex/pseuds/ProgramasaurusRex
Summary: In the wake of Richard's low point in the season finale, Dinesh and Gilfoyle consider starting their own company.





	Anton's Funeral

They had just stolen Richard's rental truck and driven it back to the incubator after unceremoniously quitting, singing RIGBY all the way.

"So what do we do now?" Dinesh asked Gilfoyle, collapsing onto the sofa.

It was a tough question. Pied Piper and its derivative companies had taken up a huge chunk of their lives for so long, it was hard to think about what else they might want to do with their lives.

"I don't know," said Gilfoyle. "Do you think Periscope might take you back for the dick job?"

Dinesh wrinkled his nose. He didn't like the implied possibility that they might not end up in the same place.

"We could start our own company," said Dinesh.

"Because that worked out so well last time, Madam President," said Gilfoyle.

"You could be CEO," Dinesh said quietly.

Gilfoyle folded his arms and sat down on the sofa next to Dinesh. "I thought we talked about this. I don't lead; I sarcastically undermine the leader," he said. "Besides, you'd never follow me."

"What makes you say that?" Dinesh asked.

"You don't respect me," said Gilfoyle.

"Fuck you! I respect you all the time!" said Dinesh before realizing what he'd said.

Gilfoyle looked up, gratified.

"So ..." said Dinesh. "You do want to be CEO? I mean you're not super into working for somebody else either, are you?"

"What would I be CEO of?" Gilfoyle asked. "We don't even have a product without Ricky Ball Buster."

"It's you and me. We'd think of something," said Dinesh.

Gilfoyle looked at Dinesh. "You and me?" he said, his tone like steak knives.

"Gilfoyle ..." said Dinesh, "Cut the shit. We've worked together for three years now. We just quit together. Every time the company's in trouble, we have a talk ..."

"You went to Periscope without me," Gilfoyle reminded him. "You did the SeeFood thing without me."

Dinesh held up his palms. "Both excellent career moves, huh?"

Gilfoyle smiled. "You just want to ride my coattails to success."

Dinesh kicked off his shoes and put up his feet. "So are you going to want to have a Satanist funeral for Anton? Or do you think he's agnostic?"

Gilfoyle frowned, suddenly tense.

"Come on, the whole house knows you talk to your server like it's a person," said Dinesh. "You're a sad, lonely nerd with weird trust issues, and you're not as good as hiding it as you think."

"In order to be lonely, you have to first, desire a connection with people, and second, fail to achieve it," said Gilfoyle. "I don't meet either of those qualifications. I choose to spend time with machines because they're more evolved than humans."

"But you're human," said Dinesh.

"Why does it bother you so much anyway?" said Gilfoyle. "Are you envious of Anton because I was better friends with him than with you?"

Dinesh said nothing.

"I mean, you seem awfully anxious to keep working with me," said Gilfoyle. "You're jealous of a machine. Pathetic."

"Fuck you," said Dinesh.

"You're the one who's lonely," said Gilfoyle. "I'm simply a contented introvert."

"You're a fucking liar," hissed Dinesh. "If you're so perfect you don't have emotional needs, why do you talk to Anton? You know he can't talk back. You just want to get things off your chest."

"Sure," said Gilfoyle, arms in, shaking his leg a little bit. "Same reason you keep a diary."

Dinesh blushed. "How did you know..."

"I know everything," said Gilfoyle. "Also, I saw it in your luggage when we went to Las Vegas. A composition book? Really?"

"Pretty interested in my personal habits, aren't you?" asked Dinesh.

Gilfoyle shrugged. "It's an obvious weak point."

Dinesh jumped, hit by a sudden realization. "Wait a minute, you ... shit, you read it, didn't you?"

Gilfoyle folded his arms. "I did not."

"We slept in the same room that night," said Dinesh. "Of course you did."

"I assure you I did not," Gilfoyle repeated. "I'm a gentleman when I want to be."

"You were going to read my phone," Dinesh reminded him.

"Only if you were going to read mine," said Gilfoyle. "Pawing through your diary unprovoked while you were asleep in the next bed though? That's beneath me."

"But you hate me," said Dinesh.

Gilfoyle looked down. "No. And even if I did, I understand your desire for privacy. And for ... confiding in something that can't judge you."

"You admit that you tell Anton your secrets then," said Dinesh.

Gilfoyle stood up. "What benefit do you get from dragging my personal business out to try to embarrass me?" he asked. "Do you think it's going to make me want to go into business with you? Sure, let's make a hardware crowdfunding app together; then we could bicker and attack each other twelve hours a day for three more years. Frankly, it'd be a fucking relief to get away from you, Dinesh." And before Dinesh could stop him, he swept out of the room and into the garage.

Dinesh followed. The garage looked conspicuously empty now, cleared of its servers and all of Jared's belongings. Gilfoyle stood with his arms folded, staring into the absence of life. And for a moment, Dinesh knew they were on the same page.

"Gilfoyle ..." said Dinesh.

Gilfoyle wheeled around. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry," Dinesh said, completely sincere. "You're right."

Gilfoyle sat down on Jared's cot.

"You do it to me too, though," said Dinesh.

"Exactly," said Gilfoyle. "So why do you want us to work together?"

"I like hanging out with you," Dinesh said, flinching. "Even when we fight."

Gilfoyle crossed one leg over the other. "I know," he said. "So stop hitting me below the belt."

Dinesh nodded, chastened.

"I would be glad to continue working with you if we could talk to one another like adults," said Gilfoyle. "But this is going to be impossible if we can't."

"I understand," said Dinesh. "I just ... I panicked."

"Why?"

"Because," said Dinesh. "I don't want you to go anywhere. And I thought maybe you'd stay if you realized ..."

"... that I have no other friends," said Gilfoyle. "Charming."

Dinesh said nothing.

"I have no wish to lead someone who is actively working against me," said Gilfoyle.

"I wouldn't!" said Dinesh. "We've never let our fights get in the way of coding."

"This would be different," said Gilfoyle. "There wouldn't be any Richard or Jared to make all the hard decisions. You'd actually have to listen to me."

"Gilfoyle, you're the smartest person I know," said Dinesh. "I promise I would listen to you."

"That's almost worse," said Gilfoyle. "Because then we'd basically have to stop being friends. Yes, I admit we're friends now," he said, cutting off what Dinesh had started to say.

"Why would we have to stop being friends?" Dinesh asked.

Gilfoyle sighed. "Our friendship could survive a lot of things, but not us acting professional."

Dinesh frowned. "Okay ... what if we had a signal that we used when we had to pretend to be professional for a minute?"

"Like me smacking you upside the head," said Gilfoyle.

Dinesh laughed. "Deal. So what was that about a hardware crowdfunding app?"

Gilfoyle scratched his ear. "Just an idea I've had for awhile. Like ... if a handful of developers with medium sized projects could form a small group and share a little server space, so costs are low, but you have insurance if your traffic's higher than usual."

"Like instead of a server farm, it's a server community garden," said Dinesh.

"Yeah," said Gilfoyle. "The app could help you find people with similar server loads and functions, so you could build specialized GPUs together, like a barn raising."

Dinesh said, "A lot of people would love to get free of overage fees. And the community feel might be nice."

Gilfoyle was smiling now, actually grinning with excitement. "Or if building hardware's not your thing, maybe you could come in to replace somebody else who left the group. The app could help you schedule visits to meet potential servers ...I mean, see potential servers," he corrected himself as he realized the implications of his slip.

"Gilfoyle ..." said Dinesh. "It's good that you feel a connection to machines, really. I was just giving you a hard time. It helps you work with them, doesn't it? I mean ... I've never really had that, the intuition about hardware. And it's always intimidated me a little that you do."

Gilfoyle softened. "Yeah, well, it also means I'm now going through the five stages of grief over a bunch of metal boxes right now," he admitted. "Which is probably not healthy."

"I was serious about the funeral thing," said Dinesh. "If you're up for it."

Together, they dug a hole in the backyard and buried the biggest bit of Anton they could find.

"Do you want to say a few words?" asked Dinesh.

Gilfoyle looked at Dinesh as if deciding if he was in danger of being made fun of or not. In response, Dinesh touched Gilfoyle once on the shoulder. When Gilfoyle looked down at him, Dinesh shot him a look that said, it's okay, go ahead.

"He was a good server, and a good listener," said Gilfoyle. "He never let me down."

At that moment, Dinesh's cell phone buzzed. Puzzled about who he knew that would actually call him instead of texting, he checked who it was.

"Shit," he said. "It's Jared!"

He answered the phone and turned up the volume so Gilfoyle could hear, too.

"Dinesh," said Jared. "It's Jared. Richard's just been to see me. He's ... he regrets what happened. We're going to Melchor's office together. I'd like it if ... if you and Gilfoyle would come. I could use the closure."

Dinesh looked at Gilfoyle.

"We'll be there," said Dinesh.

Gilfoyle frowned. "This is just to see things through to the end, right?" he said.

"Sure," said Dinesh. "We're totally still starting our own company. But I'm not going to turn down a chance to watch Richard get torn to shreds."

"Good point," said Gilfoyle.

They headed for the driveway.


End file.
